Low Country Hero

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Low Country Hero Page 19

by Lee Tobin McClain


  And Sean knew exactly why.

  His own mother had returned to his father multiple times before their final great escape.

  The question of whether she’d gone willingly, that last time, came back to gnaw at him as the movie of that last day with her played out in his mind.

  He’d looked out the door and seen what looked like his dad shoving her into the truck. As if it had happened yesterday, he remembered the guilt of not being able to protect her, the heavy weight of responsibility for his brothers, Cash cursing and Liam crying as they’d stumbled back to the shelter.

  But now, for the first time, he remembered when the adults at the shelter had gone through their things. Their mom had put together a packet for each of them: birth certificate, medical records, school records and a request that they go into foster care here, rather than back in Alabama.

  Almost as if she’d planned the whole thing out, almost as if she’d known she was going to abandon them. In fact, he now remembered, he’d overheard a couple of the shelter workers speculating about that very thing.

  One had maintained that she must have wanted freedom from the responsibility of three boys. The other had thought she was probably just resigned to being found, that she couldn’t get away.

  But if Sean had managed to protect her, if he’d gone forward into the fight with his father instead of backward to take care of his brothers, his mother might still be here.

  It had haunted him his whole life, a black cloud chasing after him, the idea that it was his fault. His brothers had never said one word of accusation, they mostly looked up to him, but that just made his guilt worse.

  “Rocky. Get out here.” The door opened. “We’re going home.”

  The boy gave Sean a desperate look. He stood, fists clenched, and walked toward the couple.

  Yasmin sat at her desk, obviously fuming. The kid skulked slumping past them, ducking away from the hand his stepfather reached out to him.

  “Thanks for your help,” the woman said to Yasmin, sounding embarrassed. “We’ll be leaving.”

  Sean opened his mouth, but a headshake from Yasmin stopped him. The trio went out the door.

  Yasmin swore.

  Sean narrowed his eyes, then walked out behind them. Put a hand on the guy’s shoulder and spun him back around. “If you lay one hand on her...” He forced himself to stop, not to issue the threat he wanted to. He knew his own short fuse too well, and feared his own potential for violence. “If you lay a hand on her, you’ll answer to me.”

  The man puffed up his chest, started to sputter and then seemed to think better of it.

  Sean pulled one of his business cards out of his pocket and leveled a glare at the man. “I want to talk to your son. Got a problem with that?”

  “It’d be okay if he talked to Rocky for a minute, wouldn’t it?” the woman asked nervously.

  “Sure, hon. Whatever you want.”

  Fake, fake, fake.

  He waited until the couple had gotten into the truck and then squatted in front of the boy. “Put this in your pocket,” he said, handing him the business card. “My name’s Sean, and my number’s on the card. If you need help, you can call me anytime.”

  The boy took the card, looked at it and then looked at Sean, lip curled. “You like boys?”

  A flush of anger rushed through Sean. Not because the boy had said it, but because he knew what that meant, at his young age. The child had already seen too much. “Nope. But I’ve been in your shoes, and people helped me. Just returning the favor.”

  “Huh.” The boy sneered a little more.

  “Come on, honey!” The woman’s voice sounded anxious, and Sean could just imagine that the man’s niceness was already wearing thin.

  “I gotta go.” The boy turned away. But at least he slid the card into his back pocket.

  So there was some chance he’d call for help when he needed it.

  Sean stood glaring after the truck until it disappeared, and then returned to the shelter. “I’ll finish with that carpet and haul it away,” he told Yasmin.

  “What did you tell the kid?” she asked.

  “That he could call me.”

  “She’s been here before, when the kid was about ten. And eight.” She crossed her arms. “What kind of hope does a kid like that have? What kind of man will he turn out to be?”

  One like me. Broken, angry, short fuse. Not fit for a family of his own. Sean ducked into the side room. There he ripped up the rest of the carpet with unseemly force and a lot of cussing, way too much for a church building.

  When he ripped his finger open on a nail, he didn’t stop. The pain felt good. Deserved.

  He’d been a failure at protecting his mom. He hadn’t managed to keep his brothers all together in one family, either.

  So what right did he have to get involved with Anna?

  What hope was there that a guy like him, with a past worse than that young boy Rocky, could grow up to have a normal family, a normal life?

  Mothers should protect their kids. They shouldn’t let loser men ruin kids’ lives. They had a responsibility.

  He barely understood the rage that coursed through him.

  He carried his supplies back out to the truck and drove too fast to the diner, because he didn’t want to go home and risk a repeat of the hamburger-bonfire-kissing scenario that had gotten him into trouble last night.

  But he’d just sat down and growled out an order to the redheaded waitress when he heard voices behind him, felt little hands tugging at his arm.

  “Mr. Sean!” Hayley whispered, probably loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. “Come sit with us!”

  “This is a nice surprise,” Anna said, her voice warm behind him.

  And in a flash, he knew what he had to do. He had to let Anna and her daughters go before things between them got any more complicated, any more serious. Before they relied on him or he got too used to being with them.

  Maybe you could do it. Maybe it could work, his heart cried as the twins leaned trustingly against his legs.

  But no. Exactly because he cared so much, he couldn’t take that risk.

  And the kindest way to break it off was quickly. He spun on the counter stool. “Do you have a minute?” he said to Anna, not modulating the brusque tone of his own voice. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SEAN’S ANGRY, ALMOST-CRUEL tone stabbed into Anna, bursting the happy bubble she’d lived in all day.

  Ominous clouds settled in around her heart. “You want to talk now? Um, the girls...” She looked away from his stony face. She really didn’t want to hear what that face had to say.

  One of the waitresses, Rita, leaned forward. “Your little girls are welcome to sit at the counter for a few minutes. I’ll get them chocolate milk and crackers while you two talk.”

  “Can we, Mommy?” Hayley whispered.

  Hope didn’t speak; her pleading expression said it all. Both girls would be thrilled at the chance to sit by themselves at the diner counter.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be right outside, keeping an eye on you,” she warned the girls. “You listen to Miss Rita.” Then she glanced at Sean. “We won’t be long, right?”

  He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. Never warming up, either. “Nope. This will be quick.”

  She helped the girls climb up onto the counter stools while her mind raced. Things had been so good last night. When he’d left, he’d seemed so caring, so warm.

  She got the girls settled and looked up at him.

  He jerked his head to the side, indicating she should lead the way out.

  Once outside, where they could see the girls through the windows, he turned to her. “Last night shouldn’t have happened,” he said abruptly. “I don’t want you to think it meant something it didn’t.” />
  His words pressed down on her chest, heavy weights that made it hard to breathe.

  Why had she let herself be a silly girl, young and excited and hopeful? She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, looked away and then looked back at her. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  She shrugged. “Did you want me to cry or something?” There. She’d managed to sound as cold as he did.

  Although what good that would do when her heart felt like it had been scraped out of her chest, she didn’t really know.

  “I expected some reaction.” He gave her a fake smile and held up his fist for a bump. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

  “It meant nothing to me,” she lied, fist-bumping him back, maybe a little harder than was necessary. “I’m surprised you felt like you had to say something.” There. Throw it back at him. Make him feel like the loser.

  This angry part of herself was new. With her dad, with Beau, she’d internalized their neglectful actions and harsh remarks, figured it was her fault.

  Sean’s cold rejection made her furious.

  His eyes went hooded and he crossed those brawny, sexy arms over his chest. “You feel okay about working for me still?”

  Oh Lord, no. No way. But she glanced back inside at the girls and knew she couldn’t give in to her impulse to run. Not yet, anyway. “Been thinking about moving on,” she said. It wasn’t a lie; she’d thought about it when she’d been afraid about Beau.

  He was watching her with cool, assessing eyes. She couldn’t find the caring, kind man she’d been falling for, not in those eyes.

  “I’ve applied for some jobs nearby, made some calls.” She forced the words out past a tight throat, through lips that kept wanting to tremble. “But I’d appreciate staying on at the cottages until I find something.”

  “No problem. I’ll give you a good reference.” His voice was cool, but he shifted from foot to foot, glancing in at the girls.

  Was it just her, or was this conversation exquisitely painful? They were being so polite with each other now. Going back into their boxes, crushing the bit of happiness they’d found together last night.

  Well, let this be a lesson to her. Following her instincts in love was a disaster. She never made good choices. Being attracted to a man ought to send her running in the other direction.

  Her eyes burned and she let her forearm sweep across her stomach, which had started to ache. Like she’d had surgery there and something crucial had been removed.

  She cleared her throat. “We done here?”

  An ancient Buick pulled into the parking space just in front of them with a little honk. Miss Vi emerged and walked energetically toward them.

  “Just the people I wanted to see,” she said. “Or rather the person. Anna, the girls talked to me today!”

  Anna sucked in a breath. “That’s so... That’s wonderful, Miss Vi.”

  “Power of books,” the older woman said. “I was reading with them and they just got too excited to remember to shut themselves off.”

  “Thank you. So much.” Anna wanted to inject excitement into her voice, but the lump in her throat made it hard to even get the words out. This town was so good for her girls, and they were settling in. How would they react when she made them pull up stakes and leave? Blinking back tears, she reached out and gave the woman a quick hug. Cleared her throat. “You’re the best.”

  “They’ve had good mothering.” Miss Vi looked around. “Where are they?”

  Anna gestured toward the restaurant, where the girls were seated at the counter. Rita, the waitress, leaned forward, admiring the place mats they were coloring.

  Miss Vi did a double take. “Who’s that waitress? Is she new?”

  “Within the past few weeks, I think,” Sean contributed.

  “She looks familiar.” Miss Vi frowned, and then her face cleared. “When you’re as old as I am, you start to think you’ve met everyone in the world. I’ll see you folks later. Going to say hello to the little ladies and pick up my dinner to take home.”

  “I’ll follow you in,” Sean said. “I need to pay my tab and get on out to the cottages.” He turned, then looked back at Anna. “You okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she snapped.

  He lifted his hands, backed away and turned.

  Anna took a couple of deep, shuddery breaths and followed him into the café.

  “Miss Vi!” Hayley practically yelled, jumping off her stool and running to the older woman. She gave her a hug, then spun away toward Sean. “Mr. Sean!”

  Hayley was talking. In a restaurant full of people.

  Sean peeled her arms off his leg, gently, and turned away without speaking. He nearly bumped into Hope, who’d followed her twin to do the same thing, just a bit more timidly.

  He lifted his hands to avoid touching her, but she hugged him anyway.

  “Hey, honey, not now.” He stepped away from her.

  Hope backed away, turned and ran to Anna, clearly hurt and confused.

  “What’s got into him?” Rita asked.

  “You know better than to take out your mood on a child,” Miss Vi said to his back, her tone scolding.

  Anna didn’t speak, couldn’t. She just stroked Hope’s hair and made a quick, firm decision: they were out of here, just as soon as she could find another job and place to stay.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS LATER, Rita urged Claire toward a big, fancy house at the edge of Safe Haven. Afternoon sun shone down on pink azaleas that lined the iron-fenced back courtyard. Music and talk and laughter filled the air.

  Women with hats and men in light-colored suits crowded the spacious yard. A bit intimidating—these were Safe Haven’s beautiful people—but no way was Rita letting Claire back out.

  “I can’t wear this.” Claire gestured down at her red dress. The swirly skirt hit her at the knee and the neckline was a deep V, emphasizing her curvy hourglass figure.

  “You look beautiful!”

  “It’s old-fashioned,” Claire fretted. “Not like my normal style at all. People will laugh at me.”

  “It’s very becoming.” Much more so than the short, tight dresses Claire usually wore. Rita raised an eyebrow. “It emphasizes your assets.”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Just what I don’t need emphasized. And these earrings? Seriously, cherries? I look like I’m straight out of the 1950s.”

  “Like a vamp out of the fifties. Come on.”

  Rita didn’t feel especially secure about her black sheath dress, straight off the rack at Target, but it did hug her figure while still feeling age appropriate. And the strappy heels she’d borrowed from another waitress hurt her feet, but she had Claire’s word that they looked fantastic.

  Rita opened the wrought-iron gate, ushering Claire inside with a firm, motherly arm around the shoulders. She’d been having so many maternal feelings lately, and sometimes they hurt like a fire in her gut, pain without any apparent focus.

  Mothering Claire, though, didn’t hurt. It made her feel good, so she was indulging in it.

  “Welcome, ladies!” Miss Vi stood near the entrance, dressed in purple from her hat to her dress to her shoes. “Come get food and drinks. Unless you’d like to look at the displays first?”

  “We’ll do that,” Rita said. “Thank you for including me.” Claire had been on the original invitation list, no doubt because she’d grown up as one of Miss Vi’s protégées, but Rita was a last-minute add-on.

  “And I might add, young lady,” Miss Vi said to Claire, “you look absolutely lovely.”

  “Thank you kindly, Miss Vi!” Claire flashed her big smile, but the minute Miss Vi had moved on to greet another customer, she leaned close to Rita’s ear. “So far, I’ve got the fifty-through-seventy-something females wowed with my outfit. Not exactly my target audience.”


  “Just you wait.” Rita wove through the buzz of chatter and reached the row of display tables set up on one side of the lawn.

  They talked to a woman who paired up adult readers with at-risk kids, and she was so convincing that both Rita and Claire signed up for volunteer training. Maybe, Rita thought, helping out little kids would give her some peace, or absolution, about her unknown sins toward her own child.

  Next, they approached the table focused on the GED program run by the library. Behind it, Anna George stood next to a good-looking man about her age. “Ladies, welcome!” the man said, with a wide, charming smile. “We’re spreading the word about our GED preparation classes. Know anyone who might be interested?”

  Claire glanced back at the well-heeled crowd and snorted. “Pretty sure all these folks have their high school diplomas and then some. The upper crust of Safe Haven isn’t allowed to drop out.”

  Rita noticed that Claire’s comment made Anna look away and fidget. Interesting. As for herself, she was guessing she’d finished high school, but had no actual memory of it and no record, either. “You’d be surprised,” Rita said to Claire, but loud enough for the other two to hear. “Formal education doesn’t necessarily go along with wealth or success.”

  “Definitely true,” the man said, “but the lack of a high school degree can be a hindrance to getting a good job. Our program has helped twenty people pass the test since we started last year.” He nudged Anna. “About to be twenty-one, yes?”

  Anna lifted her chin. “If all goes well,” she said, and looked from Rita to Claire with something like defiance.

  “Oh holy smokes, Anna, you don’t have your diploma? Look, I didn’t mean one thing by that comment I made.” Claire’s voice was contrite. “If you’re working toward your GED, I’m happy for you. And impressed that you can find the time as a single mom.”

  “Second the motion,” Rita said. She felt proud of Claire for her blustery, warmhearted people skills, and of Anna for her quieter determination to improve her own life and the lives of her girls.

  “Thanks, ladies.” Anna’s smile became more genuine. “I’m excited. I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

 

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